Wipeout Of The Hero REDUX
by Melty Cat
Summary: A rewrite of my original fanfic Wipeout of the Hero.


_After many years of vomiting over the last version of Wipeout of the Hero, I felt it was high time it got a rewrite. So, gone are the Mary Sue overtones, the unrealistic plot and the awful formatting._

_Without further ado, have at it._

_- Melty Cat_

* * *

**Wipeout of the Hero**

**Chapter 1**

_**The New Race Season**_

Daniel was good. He knew he was good. Everyone else knew it too. Though Carlos Beneto would sooner stab himself in the eyeballs with a rocket than admit it. He was bitter about the fact that he had pushed, no, smirked his way into the lead pilot position and he had gone tumbling unceremoniously into second pilot position. The underdog. He would be damned if he would be shamed by that smug, wavy haired bastard.

It was well known throughout the AG racing league that Carlos Beneto hated Daniel Johnson with the fury of a thousand plasma bolts, but they let it continue. It was great publicity for the team and the ratings were through the roof every time the pair had a spat. In fact, Carlos and Daniel weren't the only pilots who had a rivalry going on. Nami Mishima of Van-Uber and Zala Wollf of Xios had apparently had some sort of a tiff and were staring daggers. Though their rivalry appeared to be a lot more dangerous than Daniel and Carlos due to sabotage being involved. And everyone knows that the last thing you want when you get strapped into an AG craft is sabotage.

The new season had begun with the usual media coverage and opening ceremony. This year they had gone for a robotic cat theme which had confused a good number of people, but delighted the rest. The managers of each team had stood at the podiums in the boxes overlooking the first race track and had given their little opening speeches. Though, for some, those 'little' speeches had turned into mind-buggeringly long ones. And nobody wanted to hear about Xavier Menendes and his foot fetish, his olive oil intake and his fear of yet another butter war.

Each pilot had been preparing for months for the new season. It was a rigorous regime indeed. Weight loss, weight gain, muscle toning, g-force tests, blood tests, urine tests, a strict diet, precise sleep regimes. All standard for each team. Before each race they were not allowed to eat for a good while before and going to the toilet once suited up was impossible. It was actually a subject that Daniel had pondered inside the cockpit of his Feisar craft every time they sat waiting for the countdown. Why oh why had no one invented a suit you could piss in!? It was 2160 for heaven's sake!

With the speeches now over, the pilots were strapped into their craft as the opening fireworks roared over the track they were about to race on. Below the track was very different from above. It was cold, dark and smelled of fuel and other liquids that were used in the maintenence of the various craft. The docking claws creaked and groaned with the weight of the heavier ships and the sound of welding could often be heard down in the depths. Each ship was then taken over to their pads and the claws disconnected with a loud 'thunk' and retracted into the walls again like a hideous spider beast. The ships now in place, the race could begin. Up the pads went, the claxons sounding for all crew to evacuate the area. The crowd went wild.

There sat each team. Feisar with Daniel Johnson and Carlos Beneto. G-Tech with Roberto Sergio and Naomi Turner. Auricom with Pascale Rouser and Franco Gonzales. Van-Uber with Nami Mishima and Songen Grey. EGR with Paul Cheung and Alex Reece, Tigron with Omarr Khumala and Sveta Kirovski. Xios with Natasha Belmondo and Zala Wollf. And finally Piranha with Myima Tsarong and Jann Schlaudecker.

Roberto gave the crowd a wave from his cockpit, followed by kisses as the roar grew louder from his actions. It made Naomi roll her eyes. Why was she stuck with such an ego maniac as a lead pilot? She decided at that point that she should protest his actions as soon as the race ended.

Daniel was also giving his own waves to his loyal fanclub. Carlos was fuming. Those cheers were once for him and he wanted them back. How dare they cheer that concrete-faced dickwad? What did he have that he didn't? Oh, sure. He was younger. 24 to be precise. But Carlos had EXPERIENCE! Something, in his opinion, was fishy about the whole deal Daniel had been offered. Either he had paid them off, had to blow Xavier, or he had dealings with some supernatural forces. Either one of those made him shudder with anger.

Checks complete, they were ready. The countdown began. Carlos was still stuck in his inner monologue and didn't even notice until the very loud 'READY' came over his ear piece. He shook himself free of his thoughts and gripped the steering column tightly. Daniel was NOT going to win. He peered into the cockpit next to him to see Daniel grinning widely back at him. It was like he knew what he had been thinking. Surely not! But, who knew what he had up his sleeve. Maybe he was psychic too! Carlos mouthed a 'fuck you' and went back to concentrating as the voice which had broken his thought process originally yelled 'GO' down his ear.

Off they went. The sound of the engines whistling down the track and the clank of metal as they all jostled for position. The first few had picked up weapons from the access pads and were training them on each other. BANG! A missile connected with the chassis of Nami Mishima's ship. BOOM! Another hit Myima's ship right on the tailpipe sending her in a spin. The cloud of smoke that ensued engulfed that part of the track, obscuring the race from the view of spectators for a split second.

Carlos had also picked up a weapon, but he was saving it. He had a plasma bolt and he had someone in mind he wanted to use it on. He grinned to himself as he rounded the corner and there in his sights was none other than Daniel. It was perfect. Maybe the gods were on his side after all? The stretch of road was straight, but Daniel was zig-zagging left and right. What was he playing at? It was as if he was drunk! It didn't make any difference to Carlos though. He increased his speed and jammed his nose right into Daniel's tailpipe, pressed the button to fire on his steering column and BLAM! Daniel's ship smoked, came to a halt and exploded in a shower of hot metal shards, leaving the poor pilot in his escape pod. For him, the race was over. For Carlos, the possibilities were endless! Oh vengeance, how sweet the taste. He wanted more.


End file.
